Forever Night
by Ahardie
Summary: Close to two thousand years ago, a war was waged on my species, resulting in our near extinction. But now, it is time for us to fight back. My name is Jason, and this is my life. This is my chronicle of the war between the immortals.
1. Bitten

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

**A/N:Hey, this story is something I've had kicking around in my head for a little while now. In a more in depth note, it is a prequel to a future story of Deepcrimson91, and I hope it shall give you an insight into the character that is set to appear. Enjoy**

My name is Jason, no family name.

My family is dead to me.

They may have raised me, guided me through the world and granted me my absolution, but they're not my family anymore, HE most certainly isn't.

I was born in the year 1888, the year of three kings, on August fourth, the day before Berta Benz drove into Pforzheim in a car built by her husband, in what would be the first long distance drive in an automobile, not even a month before Jack the Ripper made his first confirmed kill in London.

My family however was safely down South, on the outskirts that Southampton would eventually expand to contain, just on the edge of the New Forest. Back then you could still see deer daily without having to look particularly hard. According to what I was told, in giving birth to me, my mother's pelvis was torn in half. She should have died a matter of days later, but my father saved her how he "saved" us all.

It was sixteen years later, in 1904, that I'd learn the truth of my family lineage. Sixteen years seemed so long back then, but now it's so short to me, maybe since I have eternity available to me I don't hold on to it anymore. I guess I should have realised something, I was obsessed with myths and legends. When Dracula was first released, I became enamoured with it, I spent all the money I had to get a copy. The tale should have alerted me to what was around me.

When you're a child, you'll believe anything, mainly because your brain hungers for knowledge. And you know what? Most kids are more in the know than their parents. But children are innocent enough to trust their parents when the say there are no real monsters, so a lot of us forget. Once a month I was tortured by snarls and footfalls outside my home, whilst all the while the nanny who looked after me seemed oblivious. But I could tell she could hear it too, I could see the fear in her eyes.

It was the night of the full moon when my father asked me to come hunting with him. It was one of the things I was best at, my natural fitness levels giving me an edge. But when he asked me to sit on a log waiting for him, I didn't understand.

"I'll be back soon" he told me, kissing the top of my head before he disappeared into the murkiness of the dark. I suppose in a way he did, but not in the friendliest of ways. I would guess it was maybe an hour before I first heard the footfalls, too fast and delicate to be a person. I hurriedly smoothed my hand stitched jacket down, it was all I could do to divert my attention in the hopes of calming my nerves. In reality, I was checking to make sure the hunting knife which I had brought was still in the inside pockets, although I do not believe I looked upon my own free will.

Do I regret what happened next? No, not in any way. Regardless of the torment he put me through because of what he did, he still gave me a gift wrapped up in that curse. Thanks to it, I have seen some true wonders throughout history. At the same time, I have no regrets for what I did to him that night either.

All I saw was two glowing pinpoints of green, light reflecting off an animals eyes. I never saw anything in greater detail than that sight. But I heard everything. I heard its heavy growling breathing, the saliva dripping from its jaws, and the roaring growl that was released as I was attacked.

It moved far too fast for me to be able to see it, let alone avoid it. I was only aware that it had managed to attack me when I came back to lucidity from the shock of the warm blood pouring from my ribs. It's fangs were still there, and I felt and heard as they thrashed on my innards to rip them.

I believe that the only reason I survived was because of my compulsion, if the beast had bitten any deeper I would have been severed in two. I tore the knife from its pocket, slashing my own skin as it was drawn out, but it didn't matter. I stabbed blindly, but I knew somehow where the knife pierced. Its eye. In the blink of an eye, I was released and it tore into the night, howling in its pain.

My mind drowned everything else out as I curled up in the darkness. The pain in my rips had began to spread and grow, becoming more intense. It was like my body was tearing itself apart from the inside. I wanted so badly to scream, to express my agony in some way, but I couldn't.

It was like my body had been shackled down to the ground, and my mouth had been gagged so I couldn't scream. Against all odds, my body slipped into a blissful unconsciousness. The next thing I knew was waking up in darkness. It was completely silent, just like the night before had been. I tried to move my arm, something stopped it, I tried the other. On either side of me wooden walls pressed in upon me, halting my movements.

I suddenly realised that in the few minutes I had been awake, I hadn't taken a single breath. I quickly sucked inwards, and gagged.

There was no are in here to breathe.

I scratched at my throat, like it would suddenly provide me air to breathe. My right hand closed into a fist, and drove upwards. There was another wall there too, but this one didn't stop me. As soon as my fist struck it, it tore straight through, splintering the wood to pieces, and a torrent of soil fell down upon me, taking me completely by surprise. Franticly I scooped and tore at the earth in a blind fury, digging upwards. No pain came in my lungs, no stitch from exhaustion, adrenaline was overpowering it, driving me upwards, or so I thought.

As I broke the surface, my face was assaulted by a barrage of rain. But unlike every time in the past when I had become wet from it, it was only cold for a matter of moments, as if my body was adjusting to the temperature. I spun behind me as I panted, struck into the soil there was a gravestone.

_Jason Hardie_

_1888-1904_

_Much loved son_

I was in shock. Was I dead? I certainly FELT alive, I could feel my heart beating in my chest, stronger than ever before, I was breathing. My mind was swarming itself with so many question, and I couldn't give it an answer. I began to hyperventilate, but no light headedness became of it. In shock, I did the only thing I could think of, I screamed. It was like the rain was cleansing me of my old life, washing away the filth and dirt that clung to me. I was only brought back to my senses by the laughter behind me.

I spun on my heel, the soil underfoot crushing to the outline of my feet. My father was standing there, a cruel smirk playing upon his lips. In the rain, he looked godlike somehow, just the way the rain fell upon the coat he was wearing. And for the first time, I was truly in awe of him.

With my new eyes, I could see every last divot in his skin, how each muscle went taught then relaxed with motions that were as simple as just breathing. It was like a display all in itself.

Looking down at my hands, I saw all the scars I had gained over the years were gone, restored to their old mark free perfection, but now instead broken up by the appearance of a strong thickness, and muscle twitching under my skin that looked ready to tear apart a boulder.

I tentatively rubbed my fingers together, a soft grinding noise like granite being worn at was produced. And the feeling, it was like granite by feel alone, rough to the point I felt as if it had been dragged across a person's skin it would have stripped flesh from bone.

"Now you know what you are" my fathers voice awoke me from my trance. He stepped forward to me, his yellow eyes burning at me. They seemed hypnotic, like they were dragging me in.

"You are the first of a new species, the union between two breeds" he sounded like some sort of military general, speaking to his troops. I reached out, but he smacked my arm away with incredible force, and a resounding crash like two boulders.

"You are the result of the union between your mother, human, and werewolf." I looked up in shock. The legends of the demonic wolves still held strong into the early twentieth century. They were monstrous beasts that preyed on all others.

I couldn't believe it, the beast that had attempted to claim my life the night before, was none other than the man who stood in front of me. He looked over me, it wasn't a cold look, there was still the fatherly look, but it still felt wrong, like my instincts were warning me to not trust me.

My lips curled back from my teeth, and a deep rumbling hiss escaped from my throat. And what really scared me was that it felt natural, like taking a breath of air when scared.

"Don't fight me Jason, if you come with me I'll explain everything" he said to me, holding a hand out to me. I stared at it, contemplating my options. The only thing that was interrupting the silence was the constant melody the rain played upon the ground, like an endless drumming.

I sighed and my shoulders slumped. I had no other options. I walked forwards and passed him. He swept one arm around my shoulders in what I guessed was supposed to be a comforting gesture.

It didn't work.

Over the next few weeks, I grew increasingly distant from my family. And why shouldn't I?

For my entire life, my so-called family had kept me in a constant lie. They told me that they'd seen fit to tell my cousin, Eric, but not me. The only members of my family who I remained close to were my brother and his daughter. I shan't tell you his name, only I will know that from here on, but he was a good person.

Older than me, tall, and thick in the muscles, but he hadn't been 'turned' yet. I didn't understand why, it was always like my father was waiting for something. And his daughter, my niece, she was the light in my life. She was about five at the time, small and slim, with the most beautiful blonde hair sweeping over her shoulders. Abigail, the child out of us all who had hit perfection in the genetic jackpot, whose laugh was like songbirds.

"Jason" my mother interrupted my brooding. The light from outside my door had grown alien to me. Light seemed almost to burn now, probably from the fact I'd spent so little time in it since I rose from the grave.

"Jason, please. You can't spend your life being depressed. What your father has given you is a gift, yes it may hurt at first, but you'll be empowered" she said to me, resting a hand on my shoulder. Instantly, without needing to think about the movements in between, I stood up and gripped her about the throat, lifting her from the ground. I snarled into her face, feeling my gums tingle.

It was my nerves expecting the warmth of blood, but they'd never receive it. I let go of my Mother and stormed out of the room before I could do anything I'd truly regret.

As I stalked out, I caught my reflection in the mirror. So many physical changes had happened over barely three weeks. My face hadn't changed much, but the blush in my cheeks was a bit darker, and the dark areas under my eyes that had been caused before I was turned were now permanently etched into my eye sockets. My muscles had thickened and grown, not to the point I resembled a bodybuilder, but an incredibly defined lean build. The structure of the muscles wasn't quite normal either, it was closer to someone who trained for strength rather than appearance.

But my eyes….

Before, I had quite bright eyes, the colour of green amber. But now, they positively glowed from my eye sockets, still the same colour but now luminous. I stepped back into the sunlight, and the mirror was lit up. My skin glowed, I could see my blood pumped under my skin, the bones underneath that glimmering, it was by no means beautiful. But once again my eyes were the biggest change of all. My pupils were aglow like a dogs eye shine, green pinpoints of light shining back at me.

I fell into a chair with a sigh, I didn't know how much longer I could cope. My mind, it was telling me strange things. I'd seen a rat scuttling about the other day, and there was this instant compulsion, to simply tear it to shreds and hollow out its tiny little body. All the instincts were becoming so pronounced, my father hadn't told me anything about this, but then again, he hadn't told me much at all.

I thrust myself to my feet again; sitting here wasn't going to do any good, so I began walking, pushing the door open quickly. I wasn't sure if I had pushed it in the right direction, or if I had simply pushed it too hard, but I heard it splinter. The enhanced hearing was still intoxicating. It was just strange to be able to hear every last microscopic particle of wood tumbling through the air.

I began to pick up the pace. This was the only thing I had enjoyed so far about this whole ordeal, the speed. I had to be going at a pace exceeding a hundred miles an hour, and still everything was at perfect clarity. With a powerful bound of my legs, I launched myself into the heights of a tree. The granite like roughness of my skin adhered in an instant, I didn't need to grip to remain where I was.

It was so peaceful up here, not like down below, where people turned into monsters and tried to turn you into one. My nails gripped in frustration at my life. Why had he chosen me, why fuck up my life?

The wind blew my hair into my face. I flicked it back behind my ears. Not two weeks ago I cut it to half an inch long, and now it was longer than my mothers again. The change had sped everything up, everything my body did was fast now.

The growth of my hair, my nails, my healing most of all. I took a bite out of my hand to check it had remained consistent. There was the sound of tearing metal and crumbling rock filled my ears as my teeth sliced through my new flesh. I spat the chunk away as soon as my teeth met together. Yes it hurt, but it seemed as though pain was only at the moment of injury, no more of that lingering agony stuff.

A kind of black ooze escaped the wound, I guess it must have been what took the place of my blood now. If you look at golden syrup that has gone bad a gammy, that's exactly what this was. I watched just as mystified as the first time I watched it heal. The muscle and flesh knitted itself back together, reproducing itself almost perfectly, there was barely a scar in sight. It did all this in less than five seconds.

I dropped back to the ground. My family couldn't understand why I loved these woods, there wasn't any place better for me now. If I was a wolf, then these were my woods, my kingdom.

And then a wave of mental agony hit me, forcing me onto my knees. It was like with the rat, the instinctive compulsion, a desire to ravage. I scented the air, picking up a scent that drifted upon the wind. It was by no means appetizing, but it was alive, and that would do.

I took off like a rocket, launching myself off trees when they came into my path. I couldn't stop myself if I wanted to. I could see what it was, a stag, a large and beautiful creature.

It never saw me coming.

My collision with the poor beast alone shattered its ribs to fragments, I felt and heard them. But it never suffered longer than that. My teeth tore into the sinews of its neck, whilst my hands twisted, until there was a snap as the stag's head tore away. I discarded that body part, it didn't have enough meat to warrant my attention.

My teeth tore effortlessly into the stags hide. The fur wasn't appetising, being coarse and filthy, but it was part of the living creature, so I swallowed it. Hooking my nails underneath the ribcage, I tore it apart, exposing all the organs within. My teeth closed around the heart. It burst. The blood was like an elixir across my tongue, the taste so sweet and warm, re invigorating my body. It was like I could feel body getting to work on whatever I devoured instantly. My teeth clipped at the organs cleanly from their anchors in the body. Each one came with a new taste to play mayhem upon my senses.

Something cracked under my teeth. I was under too much of a blood lusting haze now to even see what I was doing. Finally I stopped. How much time had passed? Seconds, minutes, hours or days? It was timeless in here, oblivion inside my own mind.

The haze lifted from my eyes at last. For the briefest of moments there was a fish eye around my eyes, like if you looked through a wide-angle camera lens that didn't work right. I looked down at my hands. Tatters of flesh were underneath my nails, sunlight shining off the blood. The spectrum of the rainbow filled my vision, along with a new eighth ringing around the edge.

I tore my eyes from the mesmerising sight to look at the stag at my feet. The headless corpse was all but hollowed out, with all its organs removed and the flesh stripped away. At closer inspection I realised the ribs had been snapped open and drained of marrow, that must have been the snapping noise I heard.

How could I have done this? I loved these animals, my head was….

I could think straight!

There was no compulsion now, no instinctive desires that were demanding to be followed. Was that the cure to the bestial wishes? To give in to them? My gaze kept wandering back to the carcass. It was too much. I turned and began running again. As I reached a tree in my path, I swung my arm in a strong arc. The tree snapped like kindling. I never stopped to see if it crushed any other trees in its decent.

My feet ground into the earth. The image of that stags body came back into my mind, it chilled me. It wasn't me who did that, I wouldn't. I focused solely on the earth under my feet, how it compacted under pressure, how the moisture seeped out of it.

"Uncle Jason!" the small girl yelled as she ploughed into my legs, probably bruising her shoulder. My brother would give me a hard time about that later, but I wanted to think positive even if only for a short while. I reached under her arms and lifted her up

"Hello sweetie" I said to her, brushing her hair out of her eyes. She seemed to weigh nothing, so I handled her extra delicately, the last thing I needed to do was break her in two.

"You've got blood on your face" she said, pointing to my chin.

"I just had some very rare meat" I said, putting on my best faux smile. I didn't want to worry her; a child shouldn't need to be concerned about such things. I pulled her into a hug against my chest, breathing in her scent. It was like the forest after a rainstorm. I heard her heartbeat, as fast as a hummingbirds wings, and my gaze locked onto her pulsing artery.

My thoughts went back to the stag, I had lost control of myself, allowed my humanity to be consumed.

Would I do that to her someday?


	2. Running with the pack

**A'N: Heres the next one, up as soon as I could**

My eyelids slid open to the new days light, accompanied by the usual glow of my body. Sleep was just as refreshing as it had been whilst I was human. Except it was no longer sleep, now it was some sort of 'hibernation' state. There was nothing in there when we went, no dreams to enjoy, but it made time got that much faster for us. That was all it was for, we didn't need to sleep, just to pass the time.

I listened to the sound my body produced. My breathing was efficient, but it didn't draw to much attention to itself despite the depth of the breaths, which seemed to vibrate my own ribcage. Then there was my heartbeat, which lulled my enhanced senses to rest with its never ending rhythm. The beating was definitely more powerful than any human heart, but they were straining somehow, probably from trying to push the tarry fluid in my veins that didn't even need to be there.

I looked down at Abby. She had fallen asleep against my chest, her blond hair flowing over my shirt. I stroked her hair gently with the back of my thumb, there was no sense in ruining such a serene moment. She was more beautiful than any supernatural creature would ever be, and it was now that I was glad that my brothers beloved was someone from outside our family. There was not enough werewolf blood in her veins for my father to be interested in her, he only wanted us half breeds. We were born with the werewolf genes there, but it did pretty much nothing aside from making us a bit fitter than other people.

It was once we were bitten that it took effect. The addition of another dosage of venom in our system fully awakened our lineage, letting us surpass all creatures that had come before us. Currently there were only two half werewolves in the world. Myself, and my cousin, Eric.

I looked across to the chair in which he sat, and where had had been sitting since the day before. Eric wasn't like me, thus far I'd attempted to manage my ailment, to control my urges and restrain myself from attacking anything that wandered in front of me. But Eric truly embraced it, the savagery in his heart had made him cold, but somehow still…'likeable', attacking animals just for the fun of it.

He looked different too. His brow was more prominent, his cheekbones high and angles, along with jagged incisors and a shock of silver hair topping off his head, he looked feral. Maybe by embracing the wolf in him, it had become overpowering? I didn't want to find out. And I also didn't want to look into his yellow eyes any longer.

I sighed as I looked down at Abby, she'd have to wake up.

"Sweetie" I said quietly, shaking her ever so gently "I need you to get up, I need to go somewhere" She stirred slightly, before opening her eyes sleepily. For a moment I could tell that she had no idea where she was, I inwardly laughed. Her blue eyes flickered up to mine. In an instant of comprehension her face cracked in a beaming smile. One of my long fingers caressed her blushing cheek.

"Good morning" she said in her ringing voice. I smiled and kissed her forehead. If I got to spend forever looking after her, I wouldn't mind.

"I have a few things to do, so go find your daddy, I think he's outside with granddad" I held her gently under her arms as I lifted her off my chest and the couch and gently set her feet upon the ground. After so long with her head against my chest her hearing was bound to be a little off from my heartbeat, and I think it was from the way she rubbed her ear.

"Go on" I urged her, giving her a gentle push, by human standards, towards the door. She took a single look back at me before running out of the door to find her father. I took another look over at Eric. His gaze was as cold and steely as ever. I quickly left it.

As soon as I was out of the room I shut the door. Why did he have to stare at me like I was some sort of failed offspring in a brood of animals? When I had met him in the past, he'd never been very social anyway, but now it just wasn't right.

I pulled at the collar of my shirt, I hadn't felt right all day. My skin had began feeling tight, like it was being pulled against my bones with hooks, my gums had become sore and even my fingertips had an extreme ache to them.

I looked into the mirror as my eyes began to burn. My arms shook as they supported me. Oh god it hurt, it was like my eyes were tearing themselves to shreds in there, like ants eating away. As I watched, my pupils expanded, filling the whites of my eyes to the very edge, turning yellow as they went. The colour darkened as it went outwards, and the pupils became less separate and melded into my pupils.

My vision sharpened as this happened, but the edges distorted to that "fish eye" look, warping greatly. I stepped away from the mirror in shock, I'd been told absolutely nothing about this. The burning spread down to my fingertips concentrating and swirling there.

Then the pressure started. It's like when you're losing a tooth, and you can feel the new one behind it, that's almost what this was. But it burned, and the feeling of slicing skin was there. I watched in agonised horror as my nails inched forward, oozing black fluid, before they fell off with a clatter to the desk.

The pain swept away for a short moment, before it started anew. The skin on the back of my fingers distended, before my fingertips burst open. Pointed, claw like nails tore forward, cutting troughs into the wood as they went. I held my breath in pain. It was like when I had been being changed, everything popping out of place.

They stopped growing just shy of an inch, their razor sharp edges digging into the wood. I looked at them closer once my breath had returned to me. Really, they were just pointed nails, but incredibly sharp. Still, they were a different shape to the ones I'd been scratched with. Maybe these were something along the lines of a puppy's dew claws, the major ones would come later. I dragged one along my skin. An incredibly high pitched squeal struck the air, and my skin split as easily as paper.

Then my world exploded into agony. My jaw ached and cracked. It was that same feeling like losing a tooth, but a million times worse. My teeth snapped and pushed outwards from my gums. I felt the bone grind and finally give way, along with filling my mouth with foul tasting blood.

I spat, and covered the floor in teeth. They had been pushed out, tearing themselves free from their roots. I let out a muffled scream as my upper canine tooth beds shifted back in jarring cracking motions, whilst at the same time my lower pre-molars shifted back as well. My claws scratched at my throat, splitting it open, but it healed to quickly for the pain there to distract me.

Then the new fangs came through. The needle like incisors burst through first. Wide and smooth, they curved back in my mouth, clearly built for gripping and slicing. They met perfectly, puncturing the back of my lips as my mouth clamped shut. I quickly threw my jaws open again, so far they began to dislocate. The molars re emerged drastically altered and reshaped. They were now stretched long and serrated. If I ever had an opportunity to sink these into something, the flesh would be stripped off without a hitch.

The canines came through last. But they weren't canines any more, they were fangs. They were incredibly thick, but they still fit into the gaps that had been created by my shifting teeth base. As they slammed shut, my jaws fit into shape perfectly, creating a bear trap of fangs.

I looked at my face in the mirror. If anyone saw me now, they wouldn't hesitate to inform other people of me. This would cause a problem for the next two days until full moon, then things would reset. Still, these knew attributes would give me a hand against something…

My father had begun explaining about them to me. They were our natural enemies since time began. And they were physically all but our complete opposites. They were forever frozen in time, moving statues that fed from the living like I did upon animals.

Vampires

Creatures that dwelled in darkness, that had waged wars upon each other by creating armies of newborns to decimate each other. And their royal family. The Volturi. Two thousand years ago, they had declared war on us, resulting in a genocide of our species. We were all but wiped out across Europe and Asia, my family was one of the last remaining now.

Caius, that was his name. I don't know why he started the war, heck, you couldn't really call it much of a war. We were being slaughtered, rather appropriately, like dogs. When we were transformed, we were running just on instinct. Sure, we could communicate in a fashion, but it was the old fashioned way, growls snarls and tooth and claw. There WAS some sort of non-verbal communication, but I wasn't telepathy, more like a hive mind.

How long would we be safe here? There was no question that we would be found eventually, someday we would be discovered by the Volturi, but when would that be? My fangs slid together reflexively in anger.

I let go of the hall desk before I could shatter it with my strength. Not having the willpower to do anything else, I just kicked the teeth that had fallen from my mouth into a crack in the floor.

"Jason" I ignored the voice. I had only just escaped Eric once, and I did not plan on going back to look at that mutton face of his again.

"Jason!" he grasped my wrist hard and pulled. His ribcage, the right side, it hadn't healed right when he was changed, it was a weak point. Using his momentum, I swung my left foot straight into his ribs. It shattered in an instant. His grasp released and he stumbled from the impact.

Then I realised, I never knew he had that injury. How did I know about it now? It was like I could, I don't know, feel the point of injury. Either way, I wasn't complaining, Eric seemed to have a talent for this sort of thing.

I turned away and kept walking. There was plenty of space to walk around in our house. It was large, two storied and huge! I walked into my room, a dark and dingy place, and shut the door. I needed to contemplate more on the vampires and us.

It seemed like we were specifically bred to hunt them. It made sense, dogs had the chase reflex, and what was the fastest thing next to us? These bloodsuckers seemed to rely on seduction, charm, and finesse alongside their brute strength. It's almost like we're population control, hunting them down to stop them getting so far. Physically, I could gather that even in human form, we were their superiors.

We were stronger, faster and had higher endurance. These were the benefits to make up for our slow breeding time. The minimum time for transformation for a vampire is two days, and during that time they're clearly alive, screaming and thrashing away. Our minimum on the other hand is four days. And during that, we're in a dead state, breathing stops, the heart rate is so low it appears to flat line. A good number of us get buried, like in my case.

But we had our weaknesses too. They had only two really, lack of self control, and the fact they sparkled in the sunlight. We had a few more, we glowed in direct sunlight and so did our pupils, the aforementioned fangs and claws, and at full moon, we were dumb as stumps.

I looked out my window at the rising sun. How many sunrises was I going to see in this new life? How many days would I see die? These questions had been plaguing me for weeks now. I couldn't process being able to remember every second of forever, the only conclusion I could come to was madness.

I stepped over to my window, forcing it open. I inhaled the morning air, trying to ignore my own scent. For those of you who are curious, imagine a butchers shop on a hot summers day, very sweet, but not in a good way. A sweet acrid scent, or at least that's how I smelt it. A run, that would help clear my head. Or rather, it's what I wanted to clear my head, but being on my own would let me dwell on my thoughts too much. I needed a distraction, preferably one I wasn't going to kill afterwards.

I hopped out my windows, taking the momentum through my ankles easily. Truth be told, I was starting to enjoy this quite a bit. The prospect of immortality, not so much. I walked around the edge of the house quietly, more out of habit than anything else. I could hear noise everywhere, somewhere off to my right I could hear the heartbeat of a bird, below me I hear stones grinding under the soil.

My brother was there, working on the bodies of animals that had been caught by my father the day before, he was beginning to tan their hides. Abby was watching intently, she had an incredible obsession with animals, whether they were alive or not.

"Do you want me to take her for a bit?" I asked him. I could tell that he wanted to get on with skinning, which with Abby around was a hard thing to do, it was the only thing she didn't like about animals, their insides. He looked round to stare at me. There was no surprise at the sight of my yellow eyes, we'd seen it before with Dad.

"Uncle Jason, what's wrong with your eyes?" Abby asked me as she tugged on my shirt, succeeding in breaking us out of our staring contest. I knelt down to her eye level, my yellow eyes meeting her blue ones. Her innocence stayed with her, she didn't even realize there was a change in my teeth, giving me a wicked grin.

"Nothing's wrong sweetie" I told her, before looking back up to my brother. He looked down at me, his eyes softening somewhat.

"Okay, but keep her happy" he told me, turning around to pick up a skinning blade. I watched as the light danced across the polished metal before I grabbed a blade for myself. Grabbing my hair, I pulled it straight upwards. As it turned out, our hair isn't super strong, so sawing through it was easy.

I needed my hair shorter, so now it just hung into my eyes, a comfortable length for me.

"Come on sweetheart, daddy needs to do some work" I said to Abby as I gathered her in one arm, the five year old being held easily. She clung to my jacket with timid hands, as if she would fall away with a stiff wind. I hugged her carefully.

"Don't worry sweetheart, I'll keep a hold on you" I told her softly, kissing her check. The taste of her skin went past my lips. A slightly sweet tinge, but it still paled in that beautiful smell she had. I set off at a slow jog through the forest, and by that I mean a human jog.

There was somewhere I wanted to take her in particular. I had found it a few days ago, somewhere that I could just relax and be myself. I picked up the pace, around that of a sprint. Abby didn't seem to mind, she was giggling away.

I used her distraction to launch myself from a rock onto a large outcropping in the centre of a river. The rocks made something of an island, and thus a peaceful haven for me. No one would come to this miniature island in the middle of nowhere.

I sat down against one of the rocks, feeling the heat leave my arms as she skipped out of them. I could feel her body heat get lighter as she moved further away from me. I listened her laughter as she investigated the shallow waters around the banks.

Then it was like a supernova in my skull. A driving force, it was nothing like how the instinctive wishes, but it was like, how I worked. Except, it wasn't me. It was Abby's mind, it was her driving thoughts, what she wanted to achieve.

"Uncle Jason's worried about something" I heard. It wasn't like hearing someone speak, more along the lines of remembering someone speaking. My eyes rolled back into my skull, unable to stop the onslaught of memory.

"He's been good to Daddy, he's been helping look after me since Mommy disappeared, where is she anyway, they said they would find her. But Daddy gets so upset, I can't let him get upset, he does so much…." A pain in my palm yanked me back from the mental hole I was falling into. My eyes rolled back the right way again. They immediately looked down, my claws had pierced my own palm.

They became stuck as I attempted to pull my fingers free. They finally released with dull "thuck" noises, the injuries closing behind them.

"U...uncle Jason?" I looked up at the voice, it was Abby. Bless her little heart, she was worried about me. I reached up to stroke her cheek, using the rounded back of my claw so I wouldn't scratch her.

"There's nothing to worry about little angel. You go play" I told her, putting on my best smile, careful not to show my teeth. She gave me that look of being concerned about not being told something, then smiled herself. She hugged me about my neck, then ran back off to the bank.

I leant back again. I knew both species had gifts, vampires tended to have mentally based powers, whilst we had physical ones, but I'd never heard of a blend between the two. It was like I was….feeling I guess would be appropriate, how people worked. I'd felt what made Abby work mentally, her desire to keep her father happy, and felt one of the things that defined how Eric worked physically, the immense calcification on his ribcage.

What if I could never control it? Forever would certainly be a bit more trouble if I kept hearing and seeing peoples most important memories endlessly. I could live with instinctively knowing peoples physical workings.

I let the sun warm up my skin. Matching the ambient temperature made there was no problem feeling cold to anyone, a few seconds after I touched them I matched their body heat, I didn't even need this heart to warm me.

I watched Abby as she waded into one of the tide pools created by the rocks. She was so innocent. I found it hard to believe I was like that once. It was scary, I could remember actually doing those things, but, I couldn't remember how I felt.

It was like everything was dissolving away, starting from the beginning of my life and slowly working its way to now.

I sat there, watching her for maybe three hours. This was the most human I'd felt in a month. Just as it had been before. Just a person, looking after their niece for a day, to give his brother a little rest. I closed my eyelids, still able to map everything around me using my other senses. The vibrations coming from the river and Abby's heartbeat, the heat from the sun and her skin. I suddenly took in that last part. Sunlight, I was in the sunlight.

And Abby was standing next to me. She was like a magpie in a jewellery store. One of her little fingers traced under my eyes. What did she see there? An animal? A monster?

"You have pretty eyes"

Of all the reactions she could have. I couldn't help but laugh. I didn't care I was exposing to her the blades that were my fangs. And judging by the fact that her heartbeat didn't alter, I guess she didn't care.

I sprang to my feet, forgetting about the movements in between. I swept her back into my arms, hugging her to my shoulder.

"C'mon, let's get you home. Your Daddy's bound to be wondering where you are by now." She hugged against my shoulder, indicating she was ready for the jump. I nodded, tensed my muscles and sprang. I may have overestimated, because instead of going twelve feet, half the length of the river, I ended up doing forty.

"That was fun!" Abby shouted into my ear. I smiled and set off at one of my runs. At this speed, I would cover the distance even quicker. It was a good thing I didn't wear shoes anymore, not just because they'd burn through incredibly quickly, but because the feeling under the soles of my feet was to die for.

I know it sounds weird, but trust the guy who has senses like he's O.D.'d on Ecstasy. My toes dug into the soil as we ground to a halt. I immediately took the emotional defensive. My father was standing there, his eyes as cold and blank as glass.

My mind was instantly bombarded. I fought to remain standing and with my eyes facing forward from my skull. His mind was pouring into mine, and no matter how much I hated it, it wasn't stopping.

I looked at the child in front of me, who had just torn out of his grave. I could hear his howling clearly, the rain did nothing to dampen my hearing. And I felt, disappointed. His odour filled my nose. There wasn't enough of a change between him and me, he was a failure. The same limitations of our kind. I smacked his arm away as he reached towards me, with the sound of a crashing of boulders. All I could hope for was that my other son would be more use, after all it took to get him back.

I sucked in unnecessary air as my mind came whirling back. My arms felt empty, Abby was no longer in them. In my moment of memory siphoning, I'd dropped her, and she was now crouched at my feet. I scooped her back up again and stalked around my father, never breaking eye contact.

"Two days" he said to me, his voice hissing "two days and you won't have a choice in any mater, you'll beg me for help" I ignored him as I walked by. I knew what would happen in two days, but I would never go back to him, not after him lying to me for so many years.

Two days later, I felt absolutely haggard. My throat and stomach burned like an inferno, and my arms and legs felt liked they'd been stretched on a rack. I panted as I leant over the bathtub. Venom had taken the place of my saliva, running down my fangs and pooling in the bath. The acidic fluid ate away with speed, sending plumes of toxic vapours up into the air.

With a groan I forced myself to my feet. I staggered, the rise of the full moon was barely a few minutes away. I forced myself into a sprint, I had to make the clear of the forest. I was lucky, from what I knew, all the human members of my family had been taken into the city, so they would be safe from anything the three werewolves here would unleash.

My feet sprung forward, taking fifty foot with each bounding step. I covered maybe a few hundred miles, until my right ankle snapped. I fell forward, my chest crushing the rocks in my path. I looked back at my ankle. It wasn't healing at all, it was rearranging. I looked to the east, the moon was rising.

It was time.

I thought the brief instant of pain when I was first bitten was agony. I was so wrong. A werewolves heart is roughly five times the size of a humans, so it has to grow. But first it needs to stop. I have a heart attack. Even though the organ was no longer actually needed, it still was agonisingly painful.

I screamed.

Anything to try and divert my attention from what was happening. My ankles snapped and elongated, whilst at the same time my large toe regressed, becoming a rear dew claw, giving me digitigrade legs. Imagine the feeling, of every cell of your body tearing itself apart and rebuilding itself from scratch.

It doesn't even come close.

Words couldn't describe how this felt. My palms lengthened, forcing me to use only my fingers to hold myself up; my palms wouldn't go down now. My thumbs were raised like my big toes, but remained long and opposable. There was no doubt they would still work.

My screaming stopped. It wasn't because the agony had stopped. My trachea, larynx and vocal cords had torn. They began to restructure. Once they were done, I couldn't scream, but released roars, growls and howls of anguish.

I only noticed them that my proportions had altered. A branch which had been eight feet above me before, was now at my shoulders. My quadruped stance hurt, but became more manageable as my spine and shoulders distended, but this brought new waves of pain with it.

My young claws dropped out of my fingers, but immediately new ones tore through. These were thick and sickle shaped, arching over. Fur burst through my skin, making everything itch and burn.

Then my jaw and brow pushed forward, with juttering snaps of bone. I was only vaguely aware of a tail sprouting from my coccyx. My brain blacked out as the wolves took over, straightening its limbs to shake off the tatters of my clothes as it ran.

I was aware that my face was resting against something warm as I woke up. And its glorious smell. I pressed my face into it, its surface was sticky. I opened my eyes. My face was buried in the innards of a cow. I pulled my face away, more in surprise than disgust.

A little nervous, I reached out, tore a knot of nerves and meat away and placed it between my teeth. It didn't taste as good as when I had killed one myself. Stale somehow. I stood up, the blood which hadn't dried running down my neck. I sighed. I was going to need to get another set of clothes.

Then a new smell assaulted my nostrils. And I knew it.

I could feel tears coming from my eyes as I ran as fast as I could, following the smell. He was there, lying in a clearing. My brother. His torso was empty, torn to shreds. And kneeling next to him was my father. Now I knew what he had been so anxious for, he had wanted to turn my brother.

I slumped to my knees. One of my ties to humanity was dead. The world slowed down as my brain began to rot. Until the only thing I could see, his colour standing out in a black and white world, was my siblings body.

**Please review**


	3. War

**A/N: Sorry it took so long guys, I've had things going on**

In the next month I lost even more of my humanity. My mind was beginning to delve into insanity now, I was beginning to see things. I saw my brother, but never full on. I saw him just as he stepped into another room, or disappearing behind a tree. Was this common for all of us? I really didn't think so.

I simply wouldn't accept what I was. I wouldn't let myself degenerate to the level of my father. I wouldn't be an animal. But I was slipping closer and closer, my brother had been one of my threads to humanity. And now I was down to just one.

I was holding Abby ever closer to me now. Out of everyone in our family, she took the death of her father worst of all. Her tears never seemed to cease, her endless crying affecting the mood of everyone in the house. My father was aggravated, more so now than ever before. I don't think he ever really loved any of us. We were just experiments in his eyes, attempts to create biological weapons by altering our bloodlines.

My mother was truly sad however. She comforted Abby every moment she could. As long as Abby was awake, either my mother or I were by her side. I think my mother may have become guilty about everything that resulted over the past few months. She was still human, unlike the majority of us. As it was put by my father, we needed someone to watch the grounds whilst we had our eight hours of freedom.

But she had remained compassionate as a result. She tried to care for her granddaughter, her son, but to no such luck. My moments of exclusion from my mourning were granted, in mother natures great sense of irony, by Eric. Unlike the rest of us, he seemed to have thrived in the recent mourning that filled the house. He was in his element here.

His permanent fangs arched from behind his lips as he attempted to bite into my arm, but my free hand pinned his throat down. His skin cracked as it impacted against the rocks, but healed before the blood underneath even had the opportunity to spill. My razor sharp teeth crushed through his throat, drenching my own with the syrupy fluid.

These mock battles had become a release for my anguish and frustration. It was also preparation for us, like any pups. The vampires would find us someday, it was just a matter of how long it would take them. It didn't' matter if we confined ourselves to the estate, if we hid in the sewers of cities, we would be found eventually. And there was no better way for us to be ready than for us to fight.

I was a precise fighter. I made sure that when I dodged an attack, I would use it to my advantage. Eric had already lost an arm three times, the battle continuing even as the missing limb re grew. But Eric was a complete berserker, you couldn't predict what his attacks would be because even he didn't know. He simply ran on instinct alone to achieve his objective.

Of course, my "gift" gave me a certain advantage against him. I could tell what his weak points were instantly, it was like a pop up book. Structurally, he still had a weak point in the centre of his spine from when he had been changed, and his permanent fangs weren't designed for a human sized mouth, providing an ideal crushing point. Dipping into the memories that made him tick, however, were less desirable. He relished in his slaughter, the cries from the animals, I shut it out.

It made me think about what he could possibly do. From what I eventually learned at later dates, a talent was present in every vampire, but actual "gifts" were relatively rare, perhaps every one in fifty had them, and for the large majority they were mentally based. For werewolves there was a difference. We had a higher ratio for those of us who had gifts, around one in thirty. What's more, is that ours tend to affect the physical elements more. In time, I met wolves who could make plants grow uncontrollably, and even charge their bodies with lightning.

But Eric didn't seem to be aware of the gift I believed him to have. Or if he was, he was using it well. It was like the way someone running for office spoke, they knew what you wanted to hear. It was the same thing with Eric, but much stronger. He knew the exact thing to say to a person to make them see a situation his way. Granted, it wasn't necessarily the most useful ability to have in a combat situation, but if you were trying to sway the masses, it was the best weapon of all.

Because I'd stopped paying attention, Eric managed to grab me by my shoulders. His left hand grasped my jaw, before ripping it away, and half my windpipe with it. I hacked around the thick blood filling my trachea as I kicked him away. As he began to approach me again, I motioned for a timeout.

My windpipe and oesophagus hung across my chest as I leaned forward, attempting to force my blood to pour out. I felt the two fleshy tubes shrivel and waste as my body began healing itself. The ruined flesh fell away, and my muscle skin and bone began rebuilding itself. The process took place in less than ten seconds.

"I think you win that one" I told him once my vocal cords had reinstated themselves. A smug grin split his face at that precise moment. Of al things he was, humble wasn't one of them. I reclaimed my shirt from the rock where I'd left it resting. I had already lost several, one from being bitten, when I transformed, and the rest from my earlier fights with Eric, and I didn't plan on losing this one now.

I threw it on as I began walking. Bare feet felt much better on the soil, shoes were just too constraining for me to handle. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched as Eric walked in the opposite direction, to do whatever he had planned.

Well, that was up to him, I wouldn't intrude upon him. I closed my eyes as I walked in the serene atmosphere of the forest. There was so many living things here, with senses like ours you could always find something nearby. Heartbeats, breathing, the footsteps of animals too small to see. The only place that didn't have any life to it around here was my home, an abundance of night prowling monsters made that happen.

I looked amongst the shrubbery. A small rabbit was sitting there, chewing on some leaves it had managed to pull from the plants. It seemed blissfully unaware of my presence. However, the second I made even the smallest movement, the rabbit took of like a bullet. I could have caught it in barely an instant, but watching was fine right now.

It was amazing to me how such a small little creature could last so long out here, particularly with people like me around. But that was natures way. Sometimes, the most unlikely creature was the one most likely to survive the ordeals of life. Priming myself on the balls of my feet, I set off after it, I wanted to see how fast this little thing could run.

I really did have to hand it to the little guy, all of my own special abilities aside, he was a quick bugger. Despite his size, he could get up to a good 25 mph, which is faster than most people. I stopped chasing him after a few minutes. Unless I was going to eat him, which I wasn't, then I had no intention of killing him.

I ran at what was for me a comfortable and relaxing speed. For a person, it was maybe twenty miles an hour. In some ways, the New Forest loses some of its charm when you can run across it in under a day. But the simple fact I could see it like this made it seem so much more magical.

With my eyesight and hearing, it was like the whole planet was alive, which I guess it was. But this was like I could hear the trees, I don't know, whispering to me. Stooping low, I pulled a rose from a bush and inhaled its scent. As a human, roses had been almost odourless, but now it was a whole myriad of scents and sensations. Strength and speed weren't the only perks to this situation.

I grabbed an apple and bit it in half. It was the same effect, ecstasy like sensations. Still, my lips craved something sweeter, blood and flesh. I tossed the flower and core over my shoulder, this was the bad thing. The craving never truly faded away, you could gorge yourself to the point of it being completely ignorable, but it returned in the end.

I suppose now was the ideal time to stem my bloodlust before I began going into town and attempted to eat children. I stood still and concentrated. I had to filter out all the other sounds, the heartbeats, the miniscule air movements. Then I found something. It was a large heartbeat, larger than me by far. And my word did it sound healthy.

This would be fun.

I took of into the wind, I didn't want it to smell me coming yet. The grass here was longer, so I guessed whatever it was had a high chance of being a herbivore. Of course, high chance was being quite generous. There were no animals left in Great Britain that could be a real challenge to take down, and the only real carnivores left were feral dogs.

I settled onto all fours, hidden by the grass that shrouded over me. Slowly, I crept forward, my body held barely a few inches above the ground. A few stray blades of grass blew into my eyes. I didn't even blink, the venom like fluid in my eyes dissolved them. The wind blew sounds and smells towards me. I heard the heavy breathing, a snort as its nostrils momentarily became clogged with mucus, the smell of sweat and fur.

I raised my head ever so slightly, peering over the grass. It was a stag, standing tall and proud in front of the herd of does behind it. The full moon was barely seven hours away, my senses were in overdrive. I licked my fangs to soothe the ache in them, whilst my claws dug into the soil. There was no room for quick and clean cuts here. It had to be brutal and bloody, it would pacify the wolf.

I crept a little closer, wanting to surprise the stag. And then the wind shifted direction towards the herd. They began to panic, snorting and crying in fear. I snarled under my breath, a panicked herd was a much better challenge. I waited a few more seconds, then I launched my attack.

I propelled myself on all fours, in the current situation it was more than appropriate. My legs sprung me forward and into the air, straight against the stags side. I wrapped my arms and legs around its body, locking the claws together to secure me in place. I parted my jaws, and it cracked away from the rest of my skull, widening it impossibly large. The dagger like fangs stabbed into its warm pulsing neck.

The crushing embrace severed its arteries, making it hack with blood. That was good enough. I let go and hit the ground, in the same instant clawing its torso open, spilling its innards before I took off after the does.

My teeth snapped at a stragglers hindquarters. I was deliberately holding back, it would be over all too quickly even now. I grasped out, succeeding in digging my fingers into its flanks, tearing the muscles open. Its legs instantly became dead weights to it, tripping it up.

Once again my jaw swung open, but this time I did my job quicker, crushing its skull to scatter the grey matter in my mouth. I began dragging it back to the stag, tearing the flesh from the bones as I did so. Once they were stripped clean, I cracked the bones open and drained them of the marrow inside.

The stag was much more fulfilling as a meal. The thick muscles under its hide were easy to tear, but more difficult than the does. All to soon, the meal was over. That was the problem with anything, they always seemed to run out all too soon. My gut clenched on something uncomfortable, so I retched, regurgitating the offending object into my hand. It was a bullet, evidently someone had tried to hunt this animal before I had, with much less success. Granted I could have digested it, but it would have taken longer than say, the bones that were deposited in my stomach.

I spat upon the bullet, and immediately it began to hiss. The venom that arrived before full moon was corrosive enough to dissolve even lead. I dropped the hunk of soft metal to the floor so it could dissolve into nothing in the leaf litter. I set off at a human pace through the forest, relaxing for once.

I imagined that day that once I got home I could console Abby once more, try and keep her happy. I had also considered trying to apologise to my father, given the fight we had had the night before. The beast in my brain was beginning to affect me to a greater degree. The desire I had to give in was indescribable, but every day I resisted.

I was maybe two miles out when the scent hit me, the horrible sickly stench, like a butchers in a heat wave. For a moment I stood still, stumped and shocked. Then I took off at a sprint, bursting my muscles to their limit. I had been taught that only two things would ever produce that scent, and neither was ever a good omen.

The wall of our estate came into view, and I sprang atop it. My home was an inferno, with great red flames and thick smoke pouring from it, masking the sky from my vision. The smell was of my family, burning to death inside. And standing in front of the remains of my homestead, were several grey cloaked individuals.

Of all the things my father taught me in the space of two months, one single thing taught in a day would be my most important memory from him. He had taught me about our enemies in the millennia old conflict. The Volturi. A coven of the most powerful vampire gathered together to maintain a rule over the vampire populace of the world.

And these grey cloaked individuals were their guard, those vampires fortunate enough to have awakened with gifts or talents that would be useful. Even under the thick smoke that shrouded over the area, I could see their skin, just as hard as mine, sparkling in the sunlight. Except for one body amongst them, a child's frame.

From that point, I wasn't really aware what I was doing. I t was like my body was performing each move without me needing to think about it first. The next conscious act I was aware of was me punching a hole through a vampires chest. At first, it sounded like the screech of metal being torn apart, then it turned into the shattering of rock. My fist closed around something stony and hard, but also withered, before tearing it out. His heart!

I threw the disused organ into my mouth and crushed it. The sickly sweet taste instantly sent me into a frenzy. My fangs sunk into another vampires throat pumping him with venom. I pulled away as vapour began to rise from the wound. I won't go into a great amount of detail about what happens when a vampire is bitten by a werewolf, but the whole ordeal leaves them as a kind of puddle of bloody mush. For four of the Volturi's best guard, they were rather easy to dispatch by a single VERY angry werewolf. I shattered the last ones legs.

I watched as the legs attempted to reattach themselves. Of course, that was before I smashed them into pulp underfoot. I never imagined I'd see a vampire looking scared, but that's what I saw that day. I wonder now, what did he see when he looked at me, a genuine monster? Or a person who was fighting to achieve revenge.

I looked at the blood around his lips, which trembled in fear. I grasped him around his throat, lifting him off the ground as my claws peeled the skin away from his neck. "I have a special thought in mind for you"

My grin was definitely humourless, but in fact achieved a much better effect than hoped for. I raised my claw slowly to his forehead, before jabbing it in. With a rapid motion, I sliced across his scalp. Before it could heal I dug my fingers underneath, and pulled. Flaying was that much worse for a vampire, with skin that strong.

It peeled away like a sheet, leaving the exposed under layers of the vampires form. Wet and glistening with venom, it glittered far more than his skin ever did in the sun. I snarled, and slammed my hands together, imploding his skull. I watched as the crimson mess ran between my fingers and into the ground.

Then I remembered Abby. I shot to her side, cradling her. "Oh Abby" I crooned. She was broken, THEY had broken her. Her frail little arms were shattered, her legs bent at horrifying angles. And her beautiful blushed cheeks. She was almost drained of blood. There was no venom in her wounds, they had sucked it out of the crescent wounds on her arms and legs.

She wouldn't have remembered them, she was three for gods sake. They killed her for the fun of it. She was going to die because I wasn't here to defend her, I couldn't do anything. But there WAS something I could do.

My fangs itched. With one prick I could save her. She could be an immortal, like me. In exchange for one night of agony per month, she could stay with me forever. Never get sick, never grow old, and never die. I leaned close to her neck, baring my fangs as I prepared to bite.

And then I pulled away.

I sobbed. I couldn't do that to her. I had this life forced upon me by my father, and I'd hated him for it. What would she think if I forced this upon her. I pulled her to my chest as I rocked her gently. She was all that was left now, and before long she would be snuffed out, like a flame on a candle in a breeze.

It was like God himself gave one last source of happiness for the innocent child nestled in my arms. A gust of wind blew the smoke away, and the sun struck my skin. It glowed brilliantly, and despite everything, Abby smiled. Like a magpie her eyes widened, and she reached out to my hand, which I gladly moved into her reach.

"So pretty" she whispered. For that single moment, I honestly thought she could be okay, I thought she was the same bubbly little girl who I had loved for months. And then she was gone, the light in her eyes fading rapidly. Slowly, her eyelids slid closed, meeting gently. But to me, it was like someone had closed a vault on my soul.

Caustic tears ran down my face, burning my shirt once they reached it. She was gone, and my world slipped into darkness.

Over the next few hours, I hid what evidence there was of my assailants. Vampires burned almost as easily as we did. But I wouldn't cremate Abby, something so beautiful shouldn't be destroyed by anything except Mother Nature herself. I constructed a cairn to go over her makeshift tomb of stones. I had wished that I could have found somewhere proper for her burial, but I didn't have the time.

I was next.

"Jason!" it was Eric, I turned around to face him. He was running towards the carnage at a slower pace than I had, but still fast enough. He stopped in his tracks once he got closer, you could see how shocked he was as his gaze passed over what was left of our home.

"It was the Volturi" I told him. Terror passed over his face. He had lived as a nomad before he came here, and he knew of them much better than I did. His face hardened suddenly, with a savagery I'd only seen once before.

"Then now it's our turn" he stepped up, placing a hand upon my shoulder "they've made the first strike, and now we'll do the same" he stepped away, and turned "c'mon" I knew exactly what I wanted. Revenge. Pure, undiluted animalistic and savage vengance And he was offering it up to me on a gleaming, blood soaked silver platter.

My eyes flared open, now yellow and large.

"Fuck the world, let's go" I growled. He gave the sickest smile I'd ever seen, before he began running. I took one last look at the home, my home, the home I'd had for sixteen years. I doubted I'd ever come back.

It was time for my conquest to begin.

**You know the drill, the faster you guys review, the quicker I post**


	4. Bleeding Dawn

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

**A/N: Hey guys, sorry I took so long with this one, I've had some stuff going on, including my first Valentines Day as a couple. There are a few hints in this story, one of which is very obvious, preps if you can find them.**

I swallowed a mouthful of my drink. This batch of apple cider was sour, probably been made with a somewhat old batch of apples. I turned the glass over and placed it down. Good part, I could drink endlessly and never get drunk or have alcohol poisoning. The bad? Same as the good. Already I was getting a few wierded out looks from people in the bar. Falsified documents were good, but they never stopped a person from being suspicious.

So, it was the Roaring Twenties, the jazz era for those of you music lovers who are curious to know. World War One, or as we knew it back then The Great War, had come and gone, killing over 9 million with thousands of others vanishing in its wake. Of course, Eric and I had taken part, but with our own agendas. We found those who were dying in the wastes of No Mans land, and we made them our offer. We would heal their wounds, grant them immortality, and power beyond their imagination.

All we asked for in exchange was their unwavering loyalty. Of course, we left out the little hitch that once a month they would feel pain that would make them with they were in prisoner of war camps, but I felt that if it was really so important, one or two might have asked. Of course, a good number of them ripped each other to shreds at full moon, and ate each other before they could heal.

In case it wasn't immediately obvious, werewolves aren't supposed to be in packs. We're territorial, violent and because of the stress of the transformation, extremely hungry. That's not me saying we're doomed to failure. Werewolves can be in packs, but it's difficult. A hierarchy needs to be established, and that had to be done the old fashioned way, by tooth and claw.

A jazz band began playing on the stage. Despite what you may think, African American jazz bands were rare in the early half of the twenties. Now don't think I'm a racist person, I'd be calling the kettle black if I of all people was racially biased. Besides, a black band always sang jazz the best. I heard someone sit down next to, but they hadn't pulled out the chair. Only one person I knew, or had known, could do that.

"Brother, no matter how long you drink you're not going to forget". I looked round to my sibling. The edges of the claw streaks that had carved his face open and popped his left eye were slightly rotted around the edges, and his skin was greener but it was definitely him. I sighed before swinging my boots up onto the table. I growled at him.

"And no matter how many times you remind me, I'll still do it. You're just a hallucination, a guilty conscience, none of the others can see you" I pointed out to him. He shrugged and rolled his eye, the other empty socket simply arching the muscle in the attempt. In ways I was glad I was the only one able to see him, he would send the young bloods over the edge of their already fragile minds.

"Hallucination or not, I'm still here. And I intend to stay around for a very long time until you get the message" he said, his voice turning steely. I drummed my fingers against the woodwork. The sooner he was out of my life the better. I had no intention of letting go of what happened to Abby that day, it had cost me my entire family. I wouldn't stop empty handed.

I pulled my boots off of the table so I could stand back up. I grabbed my pea coat from the back of the chair next to me as I stood up, throwing it over my waiting shoulders. My brother had vanished as quickly as he appeared, disappearing like a will o the wisp. I shrugged my coat so it fit better, and then began walking. I stopped for a moment to hand the barkeep a few dollars, before walking out of the door.

It was snowing. And much more to the point, it was L.A. A city where crime and misfortune were just as acceptable as the profit and success of others. Of course, that suited us perfectly. I turned my collar up against the cold wind, regardless if my own body temperature matched it.

I began walking. The streets were all but bare, but now and then a lone person would run through the snow, trying to find cover. I watched as they passed, smelling the alcohol in the blood of many of them. The only things that seemed to be out right now were, ironically, dogs. A few came up to me, snarling. Regardless of their advances, I was the bigger dog.

I snarled back. The mutt whimpered and ran off, it's tail between its legs. I gave a humourless smile after it, before I began walking again. I had something to pick up. The shop was a butchers, and its owner was under a certain agreement with us. I pushed open the door, which wasn't locked as it should have been, and stepped inside.

"Knock knock Nathan"

A ratty little man stood up from behind the counter. That may have seemed a little harsh, but it was an accurate description. He was short, around five foot two, with wiry long whiskers on his face. I stepped over to him, towering over him. I inhaled, breathing in the scent of adrenaline and the ever so minute tinge of urine.

He was afraid.

"I presume you have what I asked for?" He looked up at me, even as I stooped closer to his level. Trembling, he pointed towards a door in the back. It was rather appropriately red, with a foreboding heavy bolt across its front. The smell of the onset of decay and the sickly sweet aroma that I had grown to love seeped from its edges. I turned back to my little supplier.

"Open it" I told him, in as gentle voice as I could. Somehow, that seemed to only make it worse for him. I felt his body temperature plummet and his heartbeat hit a crescendo as he stepped away from me. In all fairness for him, the initial meeting he had with us was done by a set of young bloods. Those four managed to completely fail at their human façade and decimate his stockpile. Ever since then I had dealt with transactions personally.

Reaching into the pocket of his grubby apron, Nathan pulled out a key on a chain, aged with its use. I gave him a grim smile, just to egg him to go a little faster. And he most graciously complied. He scampered to the door, jabbing the key into the lock, missing a few times in his terror. Once he finally got the key into the lock, it turned with a low grating, flecks of dried liquids cracking away.

The mechanism slid back to its unlocked position with a dry click. Slipping his fingers into the space between the door and its frame, Nathan began to pull. I watched as he struggled. I had to praise him for getting the door as far as he did. It seemed from my observations that the door was wrought iron, clearly designed to keep something in, and it was heavy.

However, respect or not for him getting it as far as he did, I wasn't in a patient mood. My thin fingers crept into the space between the door and frame, and with a mere light tug, I wrenched the door open. Poor Nathan went a reasonable distance with it, but regained his solid footing before he hit a wall.

I stepped inside, and a sea of flies parted before me, as all animals did. The stench was thick here, I could practically bite it from the air. Even my senses were almost overwhelmed. For those of you who have seen the Texas Chainsaw Massacre and thought it was the greatest horror film ever, it wouldn't compare to this.

I waded through the ankle deep mess that was made at least in part from blood. Down the length of the room, dozens of bags were strung from the ceiling, their bases stained red from the fluids running through them.

Nathan had been the only owner to a private slaughterhouse, willing or otherwise, in L.A. who had cooperated and provided us with our, special requirements. And this was our end of the deal. Reaching up, I wrenched half a dozen of the bags down. Werewolves needed flesh to keep us placid, but young bloods had a near insatiable hunger, not for the meat, but to hunt. And I couldn't let them overdo their feedings, uncontrolled consumption led to a euphoria, the last thing they needed when they had such strength at their fingertips.

I threw the bags back through the doorway, past a horrified Nathan. Then I turned back. Upon my gaze meeting him, Nathan gasped and stepped back. He did this every time, he always thought I'd had no use to him. I flashed a fanged grin.

"Three hours till full moon my friend" I told him, before I darted in front of him with supernatural speed, faster than he could hope to see. He gave a short scream before falling backwards. I ignored him, looking to one of the burlap sacks as I scented it. I frowned, what was mixed in that one sickened me.

"Been raiding the graves, have we Nathan?" I politely inquired as I looked back to him. He was trembling in a pile on the floor. I stooped over him.

"There are too many of you now" he whimpered "I can't get enough meat for you all without robbing the graves"

I snarled as I came over his head, my unnatural balance keeping me standing. My fangs were barely inches from his face, my hissing breath reminding him. Grasping the front of his apron firmly, I hauled him to his feet. One of my immature claws traced down the side of his face, almost tearing his skin like paper.

"Don't do it again" I told him curtly, pulling my hand away. I pulled out a very thick wad of bills and handed them to him. What we paid him once a month was equivalent to a month of his wages, an equal trade I felt to his provisions.

I hauled one of the sacks onto my shoulder, and then repeated this with another. The soft material inside sagged against my shoulder, anchoring itself there. The rest, I bunched their slack into my hands, and began dragging them. As I reached the door, I looked over my shoulder, back at the man who was trying not to cower behind his desk.

"Don't worry Nathan, you'll get to chicken out soon enough" I assured him. As I left, I heard his knees hit the ground. As much as I didn't want to, I smiled to myself. Even though the streets were this deserted, I still expected someone to notice me at least once. It was kind of disappointing in a way, just because of that lack of a thrill.

After twelve minutes, I stopped. I looked, around, making sure no one was going to see me or what I was doing with my cargo. Once I was sure, I started down the alleyway next to me. It reached to a dead end of course, that old cliché, but that wouldn't hamper my progress. Putting down the bags I was clenching in my left hand to free it up, I reached down.

There was a manhole cover, covering the drain but not bolted down. I grasped the top of it, and wrenched it from the ground. I threw it against the wall, where it collided with a resonating clang. It was a wonder that didn't wake anyone. With haste, I threw the sacks down into the waiting darkness.

Grabbing the cover again, I leapt into the hole, only to stop as the cover hit its spot. I hung there for a moment, in the darkness, before letting myself drop. My feet hit the concrete twenty feet below, cracking the stray chunks under my soles. These sewers had been abandoned for years, left to crumble and decay for years. That made them perfect for us.

I walked into the stagnant water to retrieve the bags that had landed there. They were bobbing there idly, breaking the crust of scum atop the water. Grasping them, I carried them back to the walkway and the rest of the bags.

I dragged them along the mould-swamped concrete, scaring away the rats in front of me. The scent down here was forcing me not to breathe, it absolutely reeked. The expression "smelled like something died down here" was not inappropriate. Something probably had. The scents down here were incredibly layered, the density was immense. Somewhere, I could even smell the faint odour of pesticides washed down the drain.

My ears picked up the noise, faint at first but growing louder. What started at first as a low murmur of sound, then turned into shouts, and finally into the roar of a crowd. The tunnel here began to open out into a wider area. The walls had numerous claw marks gouged into them, cut in with impossible ease.

In a tunnel like this, the roaring echoed into a never ending circle of sound, making my eardrums vibrate. Light broke through at the end of the darkness, giving me a focus point for me to walk towards. And what I got to was very disappointing.

As I reached the chamber, I was met with madness. A crowd of the seventeen werewolves that Eric had bitten were crowded together, with two of them in the centre of the man made ring. They were duking it out, using their claws and teeth to rend at each other.

Eric was in the background, talking furiously in an attempt to calm them down. But that was the one problem with his gift, it did no good if people couldn't hear or weren't listening to him. This had gone on way too long by the looks of things. Dried areas of black blood speckled their bodies, and were then consumed as one of the pair ripped into the others throat.

Dropping the sacks, I stepped forward into the crowd. As they spotted me, each of them moved out of the way, falling silent. They could tell that I was stressed, and now they didn't want to be on the receiving end of my fists. The pair didn't notice me however. As I reached behind the nearest one, I grasped his shoulders and flung his over my shoulder, crushing his head against the floor.

The other one of the fighting pair fell still in front of me. I released the one I'd restrained, his skull beginning to reform. I stepped into the middle of the chamber, so they could all see me.

"You're acting like DOGS!" I shouted at them. A few of their faces became uncomfortable. I was only like this very rarely, but it was never pretty.

"The vampires on this planet outnumber us three thousand to one, and you're fighting with each other likes dogs in a ring" I looked behind me as the werewolf whose skull I'd broken cracked his neck back into place. He looked angry, but cowered away. I turned back to the others.

"If you expect to survive against the vampires, let alone kill them, you will need to restrain your urges" these words seemed to hit home with them. A few unsure murmurs echoed through the air. Ignoring them, I walked back to the opening and grabbed the sacks, throwing them into their midst.

"Meats back on the menu boys!" I called out into the vast cavern, their cries of joy drowning me out. I ran around the edge, not wanting to be caught in the resulting scuffle. They tore at each other as they tried to get to the bag, their snarls mixed with the sounds of shattering rock.

At the back of the underground hall, there was a wrought iron door, enough to contain even us. Of course, there were rooms attached to it all around, but this is the only one of them that was isolated from the rest. As I stepped in, Eric followed me, along with our one trusted other, Adish.

He was Iranic in descent, and had better control over his bestial urges than the others. But most of all, he had a very special gift, pyrokinesis. He could produce the greatest weapon against the vampires, fire itself. During human form, he could exhale small bursts, but as he transformed, his whole body ignited. Eric couldn't be happier that we had gotten our hands upon such a perfect living weapon.

I sat down at the desk, Eric sitting opposite me. He frowned, shaking his head.

"They're getting more violent, I can't control them Jason" he told me. I nodded.

"And with the full moon just hours away, it'll only get worse" It was true, as soon as this bunch wolfed out, they were going to eat each other. Eric groaned, his head hitting the desk.

"We'll just have to hope for the best" he said in a desperate voice "We're too close to what we need" I frowned. I couldn't quite tap into Eric's head, he seemed to have some form of ulterior motive, but I couldn't get to it. Either way, I had to get ready. Full moon was fifteen minutes away, and I needed to get myself ready.

I stood up in front of him.

"Get those young bloods into the side rooms once they're done ripping apart those body bags, I need to go" I told him. Eric just nodded back at me. He didn't really understand why I did what I did at full moon, but he allowed me to do it. I left through a door at the rear, walking into a large single abandoned subway track.

In the centre of the floor was a grate that I hauled up and leapt into. Down here was a room, made of solid concrete. I guess that back during the war, this would have been a safe storage room, for whatever was owned by the cities officials in their paranoia at the First World War. It was left abandoned, but was perfect for my requirements.

I took off my clothes and stowed the in one corner. I stood in the middle of the wet concrete room, by body feeling the temperature, but not really registering it. One of the perks of having a neutral body temperature. I began waiting, counting down as I braced myself.

Then the pain hit me, my spine cracking. I fell onto my hands and knees, supporting myself as I screamed. My nails dropped off, before thicker sickle shaped ones tore through. Hair sprouted on the side of my head, and my nose upturned, along with my forehead creasing.

I felt my vocal cords split and reform, making me cough up rivers of thick black blood. My shoulders conformed, isolating them to a quadruped stance, but still letting then swipe like arms. My growls tore at the air, making rats run squealing in horror. I felt my palms expand into paws, scratching through the rock, whilst my feet lengthened into digitigrades legs. I didn't fully understand why, but sprouting a tail hurt most, I guess it's because something new was growing.

It's a lot like jumping into the ocean when it's cold. It hurts at first, but then it's so empowering. My pelt covered my body as my jaw exploded forwards, turning the world dark.

I awakened to what I instinctively knew was human, and to a revelation.

I remembered.

I remembered how it felt. And boy was it weird.

Hungry, thirsty.

Rip, tear, kill

Smell, blood

PREY

It was very disturbing. And there was something else. There were so many minds, all linked together, but not working with each other. I stood up, it felt odd now. Around me were rats, so that's what I'd been eating.

The memories weren't of total clarity, closer to after a very drunk night. The thoughts were all swimmy and warped. I pulled my clothes back on, and hopped out of the hole. It was quiet still, the others either hadn't woken up or were being too quiet to hear through the walls.

Walking down to the door, I pressed my body against it. I felt the central gravity inside shift, and the door began to creak forwards. The stone grated against more, and the door slammed open. Eric was sitting in the tattered remains of his clothes from yesterday, reading a book. Once I stepped in, he looked up, nodding at me before closing the book.

Next came the question I dreaded to ask.

"How many did we lose this time?" despite my immense disdain for their lack of self control, I felt oddly, responsible, for all the werewolves out there that we had created. It was by no means a paternal feeling, just worry. Then he looked up at me, smiling his head off.

"Amazingly, not one." He explained to me as he stood up. I was surprised. Normally, at least one of them got itself crushed to a pulp, so why not this time?

"Of course, right at the beginning, they were snarling like rabid dogs, but after that they calmed down and kind of just mulled around" he murmured, more to himself than me. I forgot that Eric, like myself, had worked out how to temporarily slow down or even hold back his transformation.

Cautiously, my gaze still on Eric, I pushed open the door to the main chamber. Most of them in there had slipped into their hibernating states, waiting to be woken up by one of us. A few were awake though, gnawing on what little meat remained. These ones were the calmer of the group.

I leaned against a wall, using my hand to prop myself up. Then I instantly froze. Whether it was just me, or if anyone was capable of feeling this, I felt vibrations through the rock. Long scraping, mixed in with shorter pounds.

"What is it?" Eric had come up behind me, his voice nervous. He had let his instincts take over. He was crouching, balancing on the balls of his feet in case he had to run. I pulled my arm from the wall. We didn't have long.

"Wake the others" I hissed to him, my teeth clicking together. "we're about to have some unwanted guests". He didn't need to be told more than that. With all the speed his lithe frame would allow him, he ran from person to person, wakening them from their slumber.

I ran from the wall, just as it was burst open. I turned back, and saw them. Pale, marble like skin, glowing red eyes fanning over us.

Newborns. And standing behind them were two black cloaked figures. I knew who they were by smell alone. They had the advantage, their venom was poison to us. But our venom wasn't flowing now, it stopped after full moon. But we had home field advantage. And they needed to be put back together if they got torn up, like a jigsaw puzzle. We just got to grow our limbs back.

It wasn't like a battle between two armies, where the generals sound the attack cry. This was a straight in blood fest. These newborns were strong, but it was right after full moon for us, we were easily on par with them.

The skull of a vampire shattered with the noise of splintering rock as I kicked my foot into its face. They hadn't been trained to deal with experienced creatures like us, but they weren't doing to bad themselves. One of them managed to get its arms around a teenager, I'd never learnt his name. The newborn bit deeply into his neck.

I'd never seen what happened when our venoms met, so I couldn't help but watch. A thick vapour, like when you dropped magnesium into acid, poured from his injury, and the poor boy began vomiting copious amounts of his black blood. I couldn't bear to watch any more.

And yet in truth, despite all that had happened to me because of this species, I didn't hate them, I wasn't interested in genocide. The species as a whole had done nothing wrong, just the Volturi, they were the ones I wanted. If I could just kill those two black cloaked figures, I would. But these newborns would still kill us.

I tried gazing into their minds, to find the memory that made them tick. It was fuzzy, but I could just make it out. For some reason, they felt indebted to the Volturi members who created them, but they couldn't remember why. I had no doubts that a gift was playing into effect.

I took an opportunity during the battle to look for Eric. I found him in the midst of a group of newborns. He was wailing on them, punching kicking and biting. And he was loving it. You could practically smell the glee seeping from his pores. After this was all over, I would be keeping a closer eye on him, no doubt.

But Adish was our secret weapon. He exhaled his flames over the shattered vampires before they could piece themselves back together, incinerating them. This was almost a one sided fight. I say almost, because as soon as any of my little army got anywhere near the cloaked pair, they stopped moving, as if all their senses had decided to leave them. And once this happened, they were easy pickings for the newborns.

And I could see what was doing it too. Across the ground there was a thin mist, barely tangible even to our eyes, twisting around the legs of my young bloods. I had to step in, now. But no matter how fast I was, the mist was faster, every time I felt it brush along the edge of my senses before I retreated to a safe distance.

I looked around for anything I could use. I settled on the torso of a fallen vampire. As I pulled it from the ground, its separated head snapped at my hand. I quickly drew away, looking at the bit mark. It was shallow, and only think wisps of vapour rose from it. Good, there wasn't enough in there to kill me.

I looked back. That mist was still having its killing spree. But which to throw at? I didn't know which of them was generating it. I paid closer attention. One of them was more feminine in build, and they were spending more time keeping an eye on the wolves that got too close. Which meant that logically…

I threw the body part as hard as I could towards the other one. It hit with a tremendous CRACK! And the mist evaporated. From there, it was simple. The newborns didn't have a hope after their guardian was taken care of. They were torn apart and burned. The last I killed personally, smashing its head to the point it wouldn't reform.

I looked back. The guards were gone, they must have left when they saw their newborn army was going downhill to save themselves.

"How many dead?" I called to Eric as he dumped the last body onto the fire.

"We lost six of ours, plus a few near misses" he answered back, pointing to a man in his early twenties, who was in the process of re growing his hand. I should have been happy, but I wasn't. Our little refuge had been discovered, it wasn't safe anymore.

"We need to go, now!" I told them. There was no arguments from them, and they followed me willingly enough. The usual tunnel that we came in and out from was blocked from the debris of the newborns breaking in. We followed the path they had, using their scents.

It led us to the surface, on the edges of the city. The dawn was just starting to break.

"First blood to us" I growled

**A/N: So, did you spot them all. And special points to whoever works out who the gaurd members were. Now, do you have any compliments, critiscisms, or simply ideas? Then dropn a review. Please, I've had only three or so.**


	5. Young Blood

**Authors Note: Sorry this one took so long, I've had a majors case of writers block. For those of you who haven't already, go check out DeepCrimson91's stories.**

"You know how they say one mans trash is another ones treasure?"

"Hm?" I looked at Eric as he talked to me, I had completely missed his question. My bare feet, as I preferred them, walked through the green blades of grass. Central Park. Despite being slap bang in the middle of one of the greatest polluters in North America, the air here still smelled fresh.

"The expression. Another mans trash is another mans treasure?" came Eric's reply. He was dressed a fair bit more elegantly than I was. The rather large bank accounts that we had been left by our parents and grandparent, the collected amount of which spanned several hundred years and a few million in whatever currency we used, had allowed us the opportunity to have a more privileged lifestyle than most.

1934, the Great Depression. We had been largely safe from the wall street crash, good investments in the years before and a lack of requiring, or rather wanting, regular food kept our money on the raise.

On another note, with so many homeless and desperate on the streets and the railroads, there was always plenty of opportunities for new recruits.

Or a food supply.

We strolled beside Hooverville, the New York one anyway. When the Wall Street crashed, shanty towns began popping up everywhere, so named after President Hoover, the man who let the USA slip into the recession. It was also my current home.

Sure, I could have stayed in the high life with Eric, but I didn't enjoy that sort of a lifestyle. Besides, when you had such a vast quantity of werewolves that needed taming on an hourly basis, keeping your distance was not an option.

I looked at Adris, he was smoking a pipe of all things. He nodded at me. I would let him enjoy himself, it wasn't like he would be getting cancer. He had embraced his lifestyle, not to the way that Eric had, letting his wolf side dominate him, but more than me, who restrained himself.

In the decade that had passed since the small battle that had erupted in the sewers of L.A, I had taken the opportunity to delve into a few of the mysteries of my kind. I could confirm that whilst we could feel the pain, we only felt it at the moment of injury and a short moment afterwards, there was no lingering agony.

Another fact that I had no doubt that would be of use someday is that even the weakest werewolf was stronger than the average vampire. And finally, the information that I had discovered about myself, and that meant the most to me. In fact, it seemed to me as though we could adapt our biology to some degree. A girl we had turned a few years ago used to be barely four foot eight, now she was five foot three, all to give her an edge in combat.

Of course, everything was heightened at full moon. We were about the strength of a newborn vampire for the day before. But however this was also accompanied with the early onset of the transformation, which began days in advance. Things like our irises growing larger and the yellow becoming more noticeable (or in my case, turning yellow), our teeth being replaced with or slowly being reshaped into fangs, I never got why this wasn't consistent, and our ears becoming more pointed or sprouting immature claws.

But the physiological changes at full moon were what amazed me. After fights, I'd had the opportunity to examine discarded body fragments and limbs. And it gave me a tremendous insight. Our bodies were like living granite, right down to the texture of our skin, which was a weapon in itself. Drag that across someone's skin, it would tear it away like a rag of tissue paper that was wet and stuck to your skin.

From what I'd gathered, when we are turned, a lot of things become useless. The heart still pumps, but only as camouflage, it hid us from the vampires. And body heat was no longer produced, we were neutral, matching the air around us, a further camouflage. All the fluids that replaced the ones we had as humans were high in magnetic metals, iron to be precise. And with our enhanced senses, it tapped into the magnetic field of the planet itself.

One thing that the change made new, was a certain little cluster of glands at the base of our brains and around our heart got a new purpose to perform. It was like one of those heat pads that you can get now. You press the little click button, and it releases a chemical that makes it solidify, producing heat.

Well, it was kinda like that for us.

When the full moon rose, the gravity pushes the tides onto the shores. And it pushed us too. The glands start there job, first with our hearts, making it explode. From there the chemical is produced in droves, fuelling the transformation. It's more excruciating than a vampires could ever be. But our bodies burn everything so fast, the glands need to keep producing, or we change back to our human states.

The transformation takes a major toll. It shatters every bone, tears muscle and rips skin. We don't get tired, but like I said, we burn off whatever we eat incredibly fast. And transforming resets everything to empty. So that's the first thing we do, find something, kill it and eat it.

Why could I remember what happened when I was transformed, and the others couldn't? That was what was most important to me. Why did I have this sense of basic control. It wasn't like moving myself, it was more like aiming, but it was control. I only had guess work to go by.

And now, I felt guilty for what we had done. I had no animosity towards the vampires as a whole. If they were harbingers of death and destruction, then what were we? We had carved a bloody path through history, devouring everything that got in our paths. We were no better than they were if it came down to who was the monster.

For that reason, I bore the individuals no ill will. It was just the Volturi who I had a grudge towards. They had destroyed what meant most to me, and I planned to do exactly the same to them, even if it took me thousands of years.

I looked over at Eric. As the years went by, he seemed to be getting even more feral. His teeth, now permanent points unlike the rest of us, were barely contained by his grey lips. In my opinion, he seemed to enjoy are cause a little too much. I was making sure to keep my eyes firmly on him, to make sure he didn't go overboard.

I sat beside Adris, who already had another, relatively new, member of our back beside him. Sybil was one of the few girls here, mainly because we'd recruited during the war, and women didn't tend to be on the battlefield. Sybil had a very different reason for being created. Adris had chosen her as a companion.

It's a funny thing when someone's sent entices you to kiss them rather than rip their face off. But Adris truly loved her. And as if his venom carried some special gift of its own, Sybil had been blessed with a special ability. She saw the future, but only event that were unconditional, that would happen no matter what, and she only saw when she wanted to.

I looked over her beautiful face. Her olive skin, now stone, would be eternally beautiful. Her long silky brown hair reached between her shoulder blades, glistening even in the pollution filtered sunlight of New York. As I sat, she reached over and hugged me. I returned the hug graciously.

I had never once asked where she came from, nor did I need to. She was a friend, so did anything else matter. She pulled away and looked at my eyes with her piercing yellow ones. Of all of us, she was the only one who actually made them look nice.

"You seem tense, what's wrong?" she asked, tracing the dark circles under my eyes. I chuckled. She knew very well that the darkness was always going to be part of my features, but still saw through any façade that they would be there anyway. I kissed her forehead gently.

"I'm fine, but I appreciate you asking" I assured her. But there was something bothering. My own family had been torn apart by the effects of this little species purge. And now in the midst of it all, this new love was blossoming. It pained me, as I watched Adris kiss his bride upon her eyelids, that in a way, I would be responsible if anything happened to them. I wanted them to leave and run.

But I knew he never would leave. He was too dedicated to the cause for which my brother had created him. It saddened me. We were taking away what made them people, not monsters. I turned away from the touching scene, a few acidic tears welling in my eyes. One dropped off, and burned a neat little hole into the wood of the bench. Well, the shanty set of planks being used as a bench. This touching scene was too much for me to watch.

I stood up again, ready to walk away. But not before I had gently kissed Sybil's hand. She smiled in gratitude. I stood up straight again and began walking away, my steps slow and well placed. I caught sight of Eric's silver hair as he stepped inside one of the shacks. I didn't dismiss the thought of him storing bodies in there.

But I couldn't really focus on that now. I had a job to get to. As I turned to leave, something small and bony ran into my chest. It barely made me shake, but I knew that whoever It was would be in pain. I looked down at whoever it was. It was a small girl, I guessed around the age of fourteen or so. Two years younger than me, although I did look somewhat older than I was, with the transformations aging me ever so slightly.

She was thin on the extreme, anorexic and malnourished. Even through her tent like clothes I could see her ribs, and also feel them against my own. She was small too, maybe five foot four inches. Not too uncommon, particularly given her apparent heritage. She looked Asian, but the small whimpers she made indicated that she had been born here.

Dark brown hair framed her face, but my eyes saw straight through it. Her eyes. They were Abby's, that very same vibrant blue that seemed to shine in her sockets. It had been so long since the memories of her had flowed so thickly through my mind. The sound of wheezy breathing snapped me back to reality. The girl pushed her way past me, and disappeared into the homeless numbers of the shanty town. After searching for her with my eyes, I turned away, my destination already in my mind.

As I left Hooverville, and then central park itself behind. I walked through the dense streets of New York, dancing between the people. I let myself be lost in the sound of their heartbeats, drowning myself in the sea of the sounds.

It was a wonder that I had managed to get a job with the current economy. It wasn't much, but it was something to do. And, as ironic as it sounds, it was a barber. I know, British guy as a barber, seems like a stereotype, but I didn't exactly care. My thin fingers were well suited to the job, despite being so strong, I could be extremely delicate when I needed to be or wanted to.

I let myself in through the back door. I wore an apron over my usual clothes, just in case I did press a little too hard against their throats. Of course, that didn't happen.

Often

I pulled a box of straight razors from a locked cabinet. They had been a small gift from Eric, he had insisted that I take something from his aristocratic society with me as I slummed it out. Besides, this was the closest to a joke as he got. The handle of the blades were silver and glistening, engraved with wolves of all things. He had actually tried to put some effort into this one.

I stood out to the front of the shop. Someone was already in the chair. But my word did the man have a beard. Werewolves are mangy, filthy beasts, but that bear was like it had been dredged from the bottom of the Hudson River. Still, a job's a job. I began lathering the hair, trying to thoroughly massage the foam into the hairs.

"Is this the first time you've been here?" I asked him. His eyes rolled up to me, and he gave a gruff sort of grunt. Some people are so indignant.

"My first time here" he replied, rolling his shoulders under the "smock", I wasn't sure what the actual word was.

"It's not even like it was my first choice, but some people have passed good comments about your services" he continued. Well, at least one good thing came from between his lips. I flicked open a razor, dim light shining off of the polished metal. It was so sharp, but sill paled under my fangs and claws. I looked down at the mans freshly lathered throat, feeling his blood pulse underneath.

I kept reminding myself not to slit his throat open.

"May I have the pleasure of knowing your name?" I asked him, making the first drag of the blade across his skin, cutting a close shave. I found it helped that when you knew the name of a potential meal, you were less inclined to rip it to shreds. He looked back at me once more.

"Lord Marcus" he told me. I frowned. I couldn't say I knew the name at all. Then again, I could barely understand Americans at the best of times. I continued making close shaves. That was all I was doing today, it said so on the door. So if he complained that this wasn't what he wanted, he could screw himself. I listened to the blood rushing through his veins. That voice a the back of my head was egging me.

Do it. Do it. Do it. Do it.

I looked up into the mirror, and pulled back gasping, nearing slicing 'Lord Marcus's' ear off. He turned around, rage boiling in his face.

"What is the meaning of this?" he roared at me. I turned my full focus back to him. I hadn't cut his ear off, but I had succeeded in making a neat little cut across his cheek. I say little, I mean two inches long. Well, that was little by my standards.

"Nothing sir, nothing at all" I pulled a handkerchief from the shelf in front of him, and swept it across the bloody mark, it was impossible not to feel the heat of the blood underneath.

"I might as well finish sir" I told him, preparing a second razor. He grumbled under his breath, but straightened up. I attempted to focus solely upon the shaving, to not look in the mirror. But I couldn't. Because in the reflection of the mirror, sitting in the waiting chair, was my brother.

Maggots curled and writhed inside his empty eye socket, and the remaining eyeball was blue and clouded over. His lips were rotted away, leaving his face in a permanent sardonic grin, the yellow teeth dull and filthy. The clothes he had been wearing that day were stained black from the soil that he had been buried in, and the injuries from that day were black with age. The rest of his skin was green with rot.

His bony fingers interlaced. I could hear the old muscles creaking from the strain of movement. Ever so slowly, his eye rotated in its socket. Clear fluid seeped from around it, like thick pus.

"What are you going to do now?" His voice was wispy and crackled, and I could hear the rattling of his vocal cords in his throat. That grimace seemed to drag me in, even more than the maggots chewing away. I forced myself to look away. I was gasping under my breath, I hadn't seen one of these hallucinations in so long.

I looked down at the skin pulsing under my fingertips, the warmth under his skin sending sparks up my fingers. I placed the razor blade against his throat.

And I slowly shaved.

I wouldn't be slitting his throat any time soon. I needed to change who I was. Bloodshed on this level was unacceptable. But I knew that until I achieved my objective, and the vampire hierarchy was crippled, then it would need to continue. If only to satiate the others. I made one final swipe with my razor before handing him a towel to wipe his face off.

"I trust you find that satisfactory?" I asked. He ran one of his hands across his skin. He mulled over it, before finally answering me.

"Yes, I believe so" he said to me, standing up and pulling away the "smock". I reached out with one of my hands to take it from him, throwing it over the back of the chair. He paid, and I'd like to say that I gave him a rather good deal in my opinion, before I ushered him out of the door.

I pulled the latch across. I really did not want to turn around, not when I knew what I was going to see. But I knew that eventually I was going to need to. Grasping the doorframe, I turned myself around. And he wasn't in the chair. But he stared back at me from the mirror, that macabre grin flashing at me.

My hands slammed into the work side, splintering the edges.

"What do you want?" I snarled at him, spittle spraying from my lips. He cocked his head at me, and I could have sworn his grin widened.

"I just wanted to see what you would do" he told me, his voice box shaking in the dry confines of his throat. My fingers clenched, and with the onset of the moon combined with my anger, my nails were pushed away, clattering onto the wood, only to be replaced with a set of flat claws.

"You are not going to interfere with my life" I shouted, and slammed my fist into the glass. It shattered like thin ice, the shards being reduced to sand under the force of my fist. I pulled my fist away, glass falling from my bony knuckles. I had lost it again.

I stood there, for how long I have no clue. In one of the remaining shards of mirror, I watched as my eyes flared yellow and expanded. It was something you never quite got used to.

I flopped into the chair. It was like my brain was starting to break down under the strain of everything. My parents names, what had they been? There was so much that I couldn't remember now. My human life was ebbing away.

After hours of sitting in the darkness of my barbers shop, with no new customers coming in, I finally left it, locking the door behind me. The locks slid together smoothly, securing it for the night.

My fangs clacked together as my lips slid over them. I adjusted my wide brimmed hat, and upturned the collar of my long pea coat. It was true, this was the city that never slept. However, the people who devastated its night life were somewhat more revolting than those who were in control of the day.

Prostitutes dotted almost every street corner, and many attempted to offer me their services. Of course, the moment they saw my eyes they backed away. It was for the best, in a state of arousal I doubted that I'd be able to control myself. Every so often I saw a pimp trying to keep their clients in control. And I thought we were disgusting.

I graciously re entered Hooverville. People here may have been on the back end of society, and barely able to afford the worst of everything. But in many ways, this made them much better people, they appreciated what they had so much more.

My thoughts were shattered by a rattling, wheezing breathing.

Someone in the starting throws of death.

It was coming from the smallest shack here, right on the edge of the shanty town. The voice was young, and clearly female. The shacks didn't have doors, just rags covering the open doorways. I pushed it aside, and my eyes fell upon the creator of the breathing. It was the girl from earlier, her emaciated frame trembling.

She looked up at me with those shining blue eyes, and tried to move away from me. But her arms were so weak, they trembled under her weight, before collapsing. I was seeing far too many parallels here. My eyes superimposed a ghostly image of Abby over this child.

I stepped across the small shack, sitting on the tattered old mattress she was using. She whimpered under my yellow gaze. One of my clawed fingertips stroked through her hair.

"What's your name?" I asked her, using the voice I had perfected over the years. The voice, if which I used to tell you to slit your throat, you'd do it. Her dry eyes locked into mine.

"Rin" she whispered to me. A whisper was all she could manage. So she was Japanese, odd. I gently gathered her into my lap, feeling her bones that seemed to be made of paper. If God had a sense of humour, it was cruel. This was playing out almost moment for moment.

But the difference this time, is that I wouldn't let it end the same way.

"This will hurt for a moment, but then you'll sleep. And when you wake up, the world shall be new" I whispered into her ear. My lips drew back from my fangs, and before she could scream, they plunged into her neck. My fingers clasped over her mouth, muffling her screams. For a few seconds, she struggled, and then she went limp in my arms. I pulled my fangs back out, licking them clean of blood.

The punctures in her neck sealed with my venom. With the amount that I had pumped into her veins, she would turn in three days. Gently, I laid her upon her bed. I'd need to come back for her tomorrow, it was too close now. I walked out of the shack, and into the centre of the park. Eric was already waiting for me in the darkness.

The moon crested over the horizon, and the pain hit us. Eric took a different approach to me. He reached under his skin, and tore it. It stretched before snapping away. He seemed to be enjoying it. The bare muscle shone with the fluids over it, pulling itself taught as it moved. And then his muzzle burst forward.

That night, Central Park was filled with howls. And screams.

**A/N: I hope you enjoyed it. Please review, I'll try and reply to every one, and the more reviews I get, the faster I post.**


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